Sombrance
by abyssed
Summary: Post DoC. A short but dreamy Genesis-centric piece. Contemplating redemption and days gone by.


**Sombrance**

How many years had drifted by since he'd stepped foot into a place of worship? How many prayers had slipped past his lips since he'd even thought of coming here? It had been so long - _too_ long. The last memory to come to mind was one so long ago that he had to wonder whether or not it was even real. A late summer day, prayers being uttered softly in a church, the scent of apples in the air, laughter and Angeal. They had been children then, no more than nine and ten. When things were different and their only concern had been to gather as many apples as they could before darkness fell upon Banora like a heavy curtain. But now things had changed. Many years had passed, slowly, _painfully._ He'd seen things, said things, _done_ things that were wrong. Sinned, as they say. There was blood on his hands and no amount of washing would ever cleanse him of the lives he'd so frivolously taken or the bonds he'd destroyed.

But redemption. Does it not beckon every fallen angel? No, only those that could hoped to be saved.

The question was, _could_ Genesis be saved? Especially now that he'd fallen so far, after he'd let go of everything that had once made him human? Would the Goddess be merciful enough to gaze past that wing and permit him to take a step towards her and that eternal grace? Or would he be struck down and pushed into the abyss where monsters roamed freely? Mistakes had been made, tears had been shed along with his own blood, regrets had been screamed and sorrow had flowed into a vast empty chamber hidden deep inside of him, but was it all enough to make a difference? He found himself hoping so, which surprised him momentarily. Since when had he started hoping for things?

Weak sunlight caressed his pale features, the breeze ruffled his auburn hair and the sky silently changed from blue to a gentle pink. _Twilight._ Was there ever a more suitable time to enter a church when one was seeking forgiveness? He paused on the stone steps, a contemplative look in those mako sharp eyes, still so bright after many years of seeing nothing but darkness and creatures within nightmares. A gloved hand slowly reached out to brush the edges of the door, fingers gently tracing the ornate pattern for a moment or two, before firmly pushing it open and stepping inside.

The cool dimness of the church was quite a change from the warmth outside. Within the stone building, it was hushed, the silence hung heavily over everything and Genesis was all too aware of his heart hammering within his chest, loudly. A drum with it's own insolent beat, insistent enough to rouse and anger the gods. Taking a deep breath, the redhead walked further inside, slowly passing dusty pews, one after the other, each looking more forlorn than the last. He reached the front and stopped. To his right was the confessional and in the centre lay the altar with the large crucifix hanging on the wall above it. Dust particles danced in the stream of sunlight coming through the stained glass windows, bathing the altar in a warm glow.

The ex SOLDIER closed his eyes, a rush of gratitude and relief washing over him. So here he was able to stand and breathe freely so. He hadn't been shunned, burned or brought down to his knees. His mistakes and sins remained where they were - in the past and in his nightmares. And in time, maybe the Goddess would heal him of those demons too, while he worked hard to repay for what he had so carelessly destroyed in his own selfish ventures.

Maybe this time things would be different.

There was a reason why he had awoken after all these years. A reason why he survived while his two dear friends had perished in the hands of fate. His destiny, it seemed, would lead him to even greater heights. To stray off the path now would be both unfortunate and foolish. No, he had to keep _her_ in mind while he fought to become the new hero. She would guide him to everlasting glory like he had dreamed about for so long. At long last, it was his turn to shine and the Goddess was finally gracing him with her light.

"The goddess descends from the sky. Wings of light and dark spread afar. She guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting". A passage from the sacred play flowed past his lips like water. His voice warm and mellow, filled the emptiness within the church, spreading to every corner. A thousand hushed whispers in poetic verses. This was his promise to be the warrior _she_ and the planet sought.

And so this is where it would all begin.


End file.
